


Parting Gifts

by TheChimeraSculptress



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:11:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChimeraSculptress/pseuds/TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marie and Logan share a nostalgic little ritual when he leaves the Institute to go travelling again. A one off, short little story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parting Gifts

Marie rested her chin on her hands and sighed despondently as she stared out of the library window. She hated this time of year. Christmas and New Years was well and truly over and spring was countless depressing grey-days away. 

And to top it all off, Logan was leaving again.

Since Jean had been killed at Alkali Lake he had been spending less and less time at the Institute. Marie hadn't been altogether surprised, accepting that the beautiful doctor had been one of the main reasons he had ever decided to come back in the first place. There was also the promise he had made to her, that he would take care of her, but she wasn't naïve enough to expect Logan to follow it implicitly. She knew he wasn't the sort of guy who could remain in one place for long. It just wasn't in his nature. She was just happy that he visited at all and was secretly touched that the only reason he came back at all now was because of his promise to her. 

At first she had been troubled by this, fearing that he might secretly resent her for binding him to her welfare. It must have been an awkward situation for him, after all - she had been literally in tears on that train. But when she had confessed this to him one day, he had turned angry and insisted that he didn't do anything on a whim. Or out of pity.

He had also admitted that he liked spending time with her. 

She smiled wistfully, despite the weather. Yeah...those had been his exact words. _That he liked spending time with her_. Not with Storm or Scott (heaven forbid!) or the Professor or anyone else at the mansion. Just her. 

The untouchable Rogue.

That was another thing that made his rare visits all the more special. He wasn't afraid of her; wasn't afraid to touch her. And so she had come to cherish every single one of his hugs and squeezes, even if she initiated the majority of them and they were a little refrained on his part, because, well, he was the big bad Wolverine and had a rep to maintain!

Everyone at the mansion said that the connection between them was probably down to the fact that she had him in her head, and she let them believe it. They seemed amused by their relationship. Saw it as cute. But only she and Logan knew of that very first meeting in his camper van when they had first forged a friendship without words. It had only been subtle, but _something_ had been sparked that day. And that later conversation on the train had only made it grow. It wasn't a flame exactly and had nothing to do with passion, but was more like a comforting glow that nestled deep within each of them, and was there to make them smile when they needed to smile most of all.

Like now.

Like today...on this bleak February day when, in a few hours time, they'd both be alone again. Her, because she would never force him to stay, and him because that was just what he did. What he was.

She reached up and placed her gloved hand gently against her chest. She could almost feel the warmth of that glow deep inside her heart, keeping her forever hopeful. Reassuring her that one day Logan would stay for good. That he would finally accept that Jean was gone and return the love that she felt for him so ardently. 

That he might even ignite that glow and make it flame. For both of them. She couldn't deny that sometimes there was a hint of something in his eyes...an intensity that burned, albeit fleetingly, when they were alone in his room, or walking together in the grounds... 

Her smile stretched and the day suddenly seemed a little brighter as she acknowledged that winter wouldn't last forever. That she wouldn't be nineteen forever and Logan's restraint couldn't possibly hold forever. 

"There ya are, kid," a familiar voice suddenly groaned behind her. "I've been lookin' for ya all over."

She turned to see the man in question standing there in those tauntingly tight jeans, backpack hooked onto his shoulder, cigar held between his lips. "That acute sense of smell let you down?" she teased.

"Nope." He gestured with his head, back towards the hallway. "Those goddamn decorators out there. That paint is givin' me a headache."

She moved out from the window and regarded him resignedly. "So, you're off again then?"

"Yep," he nodded, although didn't look altogether enamoured of the idea.

"Up north?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"Perhaps one day you'll take me with you."

"Sure you could hack the cold?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Nope. But it's not a no either."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you always have to be so cryptic?"

He smirked. "Gotta keep ya on your toes."

"I'll miss you."

He took a deep breath. "Straight back at ya, kid."

She took a step closer. "Thanks, Logan."

His eyebrow rose in puzzlement. "For what?"

"For coming back."

He looked mildly uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, it's good to have somewhere, ya know?" He hesitated before amending: "Someone." 

She watched him fondly. "Yeah, I know." She grinned. "The unlikeliest friends, eh?" She pondered. "Or maybe not. The untouchable girl and the unapproachable guy. It kinda fits."

He readjusted his pack. "You talk too much," he ribbed.

She laughed softly, gesturing with her hands. "Go then! Go brood and hike and whatever it is you like to do out in the wilds." As he turned she was very tempted to slap that perfect ass of his. 

As they walked down the hall towards the foyer he peered across at her. "I'll send ya a postcard."

"You'd better," she warned. She frowned at him. "But something a bit prettier than _I heart Canada_. Some nice scenic ones, perhaps."

"Yes, mam." 

When they finally reached the main doors they stopped again and faced one another as a strained silence swept around them. 

"I don't want you to go," Marie confessed gently, although there were undercurrents of mirth in her tone. Although they did this every time Logan left, she was still always taken back to that first time, more than three years ago, when it was spoken in all seriousness. 

Their nostalgic little ritual had begun.

Logan's eyes met hers and they shared her amusement. She knew he enjoyed this little game as much as she did. That it took the sting out of parting. 

He took the cigar out of his mouth and brought it down to his hand. Marie winced as he gutted out the smouldering end on his outstretched palm, wishing that he would just put it out the normal way like everyone else. 

He handed her the half smoked cigar. "I'll be back for this."

She accepted it gratefully, like she had many times before, long after the dog-tags had been tossed at Stryker's feet at Alkali Lake and become lost beneath an ocean of water.

She nodded and watched him disappear through the doors. "Goodbye, sugar," she whispered beneath her breath. "Don't stay away too long."

She sighed when he was gone, but it was weighted with conflicting emotions this time: part of her sad, part grateful, part...

Loved?

She slipped the cigar into her jeans pocket; ready to add to the collection of varying-sized stubs she had accumulated over the past few years.

But she didn't return back to the window, her spirits lifted for the time being, and decided instead, to go for a walk around the lake. Nature always made her feel somehow closer to Logan. And as she slipped on her coat she knew that she would barely feel the cold. That her best friend might have left again, but the three precious weeks he had spent with her at the Institute was enough to keep her heart glowing until the next time she heard the hum of his motorbike tearing up the drive.


End file.
